Late Night Plaything
by El.Oh.Vee.Ee
Summary: Letharia travels to Sholazar Basin. It's a nice change of scenery and more her environment than the Hinterlands. However, an early morning swim is disturbed by a Troll Rogue looking for some trouble. All it took was a single fight, a single attempt at murder, and her life was thrown to the wind. Rated M. You know why. Also, reviews help me update.
1. Beast in Rut

The young elf stepped with light feet across the damp forest floor, the soft noises drowned out by the wind. Her body shook with the early morning chill, and she wrapped her cloak closer around her. She was headed to the nearby lake, not twelve paces from her camp. Thoughts of the new creatures inhabiting the forest plagued her mind constantly, keeping her long ears on high alert. Her heart beat furiously with every step she took, but the thrill didn't scare her. It had the opposite effect, in fact, and a small giggle of excitement bubbled up through her lips. The light noise was ghosted from her mouth and carried on the wind through the trees, eventually filtering out to blend with the song of birds in the treetops.

Sholazar Basin was new territory for Letharia. It had some of the same qualities of Teldrassil, but it just wasn't the same. This forest, no, this [i]jungle[/i], was untamed and wild. _Dangerous..._ She thought. She liked a good challenge, however, and embraced the new scenery. Her parents encouraged her to move continents, voicing their distaste for her home in the Hinterlands. _"There are too many trolls in those parts, Letharia. No place for a respectable Elf to be."_ They had told her. She scoffed at the ignorance and snobbish tones of their voice. It was all the same to her though. Now she wasn't constantly bored with her surroundings She was always faced with danger, and after a fight for her life, a nice bath was just that much more appreciated.

When she finally reached the edge of the water, she untied her cloak and let the heavy material pool around her feet. Her head instinctively tipped back and she scented the air, taking short, shallow breaths. _Nothing out of place..._ she noted to herself. She unclasped her leather breast piece. Her leather skirt was next, and by simply unclasping the clip on her hip, it fell to the ground by her cloak. She folded each article and placed one on top of the other in descending order. Her cloak, her skirt, and finally her breast piece. She fingered the amulet hanging just above her breast line and had a quick debate as to weather or not she should leave it.

_Don't be stupid_. she laughed. She would die if it was carted off by an exotic bird specie during her swim.

She checked the clasp on the silver chain, and secured the amethyst stone tighter to the silver links. She stepped towards the lake, smiling when the damp earth made squishing noises beneath her feet. She took one last breath before diving in, nearly crying out at the chill of the water. Her hair came loose from it's binding and surrounded her like a cape of sea weed. The dark greens in her hair reflected the rays of sunlight bursting through the treetops, and spotted her pale skin with little green re-fractions. She let herself sink to the bottom of the lake, laying flat on her back in the reeds. The quite that settled around her caused a sense of euphoria to settle over her over stressed muscles. She relaxed bit by bit until she was nearly as languid as the water around her.

She was possibly the most comfortable she had ever been. The happiest she had ever been, and also in foreign territory. She let a small smile fall on her lips, and she struggled not the laugh at herself. _I am only ever truly happy when I am in the throws of danger..._

As the young elf girl rested at the bottom of the lake, the stealthed rogue just up wind dropped from his perch in his tree. His landing made no noise, the only proof of him having been there were the footprints in the impressionable ground. Two-toed impressions, signature features of a troll. He crept over to her belongings, eyeing them with interest. They were neatly folded, and just lying in the open. She was nearly [i]asking[/i] for someone to steal her things. And better yet, her clothes in the open informed anyone passing by that she was near, and she was [i]naked.[/i] Any honorable Horde member would take the opportunity to bring honor to his family by dishonoring a helpless Alliance woman. Sul'thraze knew the thought had crossed his mind more than once. And this particular elf was just as good as any.

The muscles in his loins tightened as he imagined taking a simple elf woman in the jungles of Sholazar. He had never actually [i]seen[/i] the woman in the water, but her veracious splashing drew his attention. His original though was that of someone drowning, or a battle by the waters edge. She was already fully submersed by the time he had taken his perch in the tree, and he could only see what looked like reeds swaying in the water. He crouched down and fingered the material of her leather breast piece.

[i]How is this even considered full armor..?[/i] he asked himself. The piece would probably only barely cover her breasts with a bit of extra coverage below. The normal elf woman would be terribly cramped, also.

Sul'thraze laughed at the showy nature of the elves and let the well worn cloth drop from his fingers. He glanced at the waters edge and noticed the slightest disturbance in the water, only given away by a ripple a bit stronger than the rest. He jumped into the shadows of the jungle just in time to see an elf's head break the surface of the water, her head thrown back while she gasped for breath. After a few long breaths, she tilted her head forward strands of dripping green hair falling into her face. Her luminescent eyes scanned the shore, barely hesitating on Sul'thraze's stealthed form. The innocence obviously painted on her face showed her ignorance to his presence. He smirked at the young woman as she slowly, [i]very[/i] slowly rose from the water. Inch by silky inch of her skin was revealed, dripping with the cold, crisp water. His loins tightened violently when he perky breasts emerged from the surface of crystal water. He was wrong when he had thought she was a normal Night Elf. She was not as tall as normal elves, nor was she as thin and lanky. Her torso was not nearly as long, nor was it so unshapely. Pert, round breasts fed into a small waist, which evolved into well rounded hips which cascaded into long, beautiful legs. Her green, wavy hair wound it's way down her back and only ended at her hips.

A guttural growl rose from Sul'thraze's throat, low and demanding. The need in him swelled to unimaginable heights, only fueled by the tantalizing swing of the elf's hips. Her head snapped up at the faint sound, her eyes narrowing. Her hands stilled on her hair as she was attempting to ring it out. She lifted her pert nose to the sky and scented the air. Nothing was amiss until the wind changed direction and a strong musk filled her nose. She gasped at the thickness of the scent, recognizing it almost immediately. It was the scent of a beast in rut, but it was a beast she was not familiar with.

She didn't bother with her clothes, instead, she fell to the ground on her knees and let the spirits take over. Half a second of awkward shifting was all it took for her to take form. A sleek, green saber took her place, it's hackles rising and it's back arching defensively. She placed her backside to the lake while she scanned the jungle edge. After minutes of waiting for a single movement, nothing came. She began to feel silly and relax her stance.

Everything happened too fast for her to comprehend. A loud splash and the snap of some kind of material was all Letharia heard before she was pinned to the ground from behind, a thick piece of leather trapping her paws to her chest. She could feel the strap jerk and tighten as her assailant tied the binding just above her shoulders. A furious growl tore through her, and she was adamant on making her disapproval of the situation clear, even if she couldn't speak.

Rough, demanding hands grabbed her by the back of the neck and jerked her head back in one quick tug. Moments after her throat was exposed, a blade was place to it. All movements ceased, and Letharia was preparing to take her last breaths. The anger she had felt was suddenly gone, now replaced with a sick sense of acceptance. The man above her shifted slightly, placing his mouth by her furry ear, his breath ghosting over it and making it twitch.

"Dats a good girl. Nice an' calm, now. Dun wantcha to lose your head now, do we..?" he whispered, tapping the sharp blade against her throat. He chuckled at his own joke, his chest pressing against her back. She was hyper aware of every part of him that was touching her, and she didn't like it.

She let out a soft, low growl. Not threatening, but obviously irritated. Weren't trolls supposed to be unintelligent? Even just a little? This one was the complete opposite. He was stealthy, and patient. His movements were quick, and lithe, and sure. She was astonished that he was able to subdue her so quickly. [i]In a matter of seconds, in fact...[/i] she though bitterly.

"Now, now, elfie. No need fo da violence. We both know who da victor be if we was to fight, dun we?" he emphasized his point by tightening his hold her the back of her neck and pulling her head farther back it a weird angle. Her breath caught in her throat, and she tried to gasp for breath. She was still astounded at the fact that he could speak common, let alone best her in battle. However, the battle was not over.

"I dun want to hurt ya, now. I want to play wit ya a leetle..."

She let loose a slow breath, taking her time to concentrate. She let her body relax completely, like she had at the bottom of the lake. He started to lose his grip on her dead weight body, and fumbled half a second with his restricting hand. She let loose a feral growl which quickly evolved into a scream of rage as she phased back into her humanoid form. She slipped her hands out of the leather binds as they slackened on her smaller body and she took a deep breath before phasing again. Her muscles screamed at her, and her mind nearly tore in two. Shifting forms so quickly could quiet literally tear her apart, both in body and spirit. Her suddenly large body made the large troll lose his footing, and he stumbled before righting himself. His awkward shuffling gave Letharia enough time to shoot to her feet and turn on him with all of her pent of anger.

What she expected from him was not what she got. She expected fear, or surprise, or even hate from him that she had turned the situation around, but instead he just laughed. It was a cynical laugh, filled with darkness and death.

"Da pretty leetle elf knows how'ta handle herself, eh?" he joked, flipping the deadly blades around in his hands. A faint sheen on the blades foretold poison, and Letharia shrunk away from them. He noticed this and advanced forward flicking a dagger in her direction. She instinctively shrunk away from it before she realized what she was doing, and charged him in her anger. He was prepared for this, however, and side stepped in time for her jaws to snap shut just inches from where he had been. She turned to swipe his legs, but he was gone. His deep, disturbing laughter bounced off the trees and faded with the distance he put between himself and the angered elf.

A single call was heard as his voice faded into the distance.

"We'll play next time, leetle elfie..."


	2. Escaping the Wilds

Letharia dressed quickly after the escape of the troll, her shaking hands only slowing her down a minuscule amount.

_What the hell was that? What just happened?_ she thought to herself. Her mind was buzzing with new thoughts and emotions, both foreign and domestic.

The last thing she threw on was her cloak, and she cast one last glance at the lake before she hurried off towards her camp. Light feet danced through the underbrush as she nearly sprinted to safety, her heart still pounding like that of a jack rabbit. She could still feel the trolls hands on her body. Could still feel where his skin met her fur. It was an entirely different feeling now that her protective coat was gone. His hands had been on her _body_, in her _hair_ at the nape of her neck. She shivered at the thought, suddenly remembering the feel of his fingers there.

Seconds later, she arrived at camp. Everything seemed to be the way it was when she left. Shiva, her saber, snoozed lazily nearby, her silver coat glistening in the light that was cast down through the canopy. The embers in the fire still crackled, only now beginning to lose their spark. The only thing out of place was the massive print left in the dirt. Letharia could tell by the impression that whoever left it had done so on purpose, and she had a feeling of who it might belong to.

Obvious tracks of two-toed prints lead to the mouth of her tent, careful not to disturb or disrupt any other part of her living environment. She leaned down and stalked close to the still tent. No scents were left behind outside, and she couldn't sense any other living creature aside from Shiva nearby. She lunged forward and threw back the flaps of the tent, releasing a large sigh when it was empty. Her breath suddenly caught in her throat, however. It was _empty._ _Completely and utterly empty._

All of her bags were still there, but they had been emptied of their contents and shredded. Her gold, her food, and her supplies had all been taken. Suddenly, Letharia realized just how _alone_ she was. She was a single female Night Elf, alone in the middle of Sholazar Basin with no food, money, or bags.

She let out a long sigh, letting herself fall to her knees in defeat. Inside the tent, it reeked of Troll. It was almost as if he had left the evidence of himself on purpose, to taunt her with his victory over her.

Letharia pushed herself to her feet and clicked her tongue loudly. Shiva awoke and shook herself awake before lumbering over to her mistress. Letharia threw her leg over Shiva's back and fisted her fur to hold on. She steered her in the general direction of the nearest road and set off, leaving her tent and fire still intact.

_I have no bags to carry anything with, so as of now I only have myself and Shiva... _she thought to herself bitterly.

Shiva sensed the tension in her mistress and took off at a higher pace, eager to please her. Letharia rested her head between the saber's shoulder blades and let herself relax, confident in Shiva's navigational skills. She let herself fall asleep to the gentle rocking of her long strides.

Sul'thraze watched from the treetops at the naked elf struggled to dress herself, and couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the effect he had on her. Even from so far, he could easily spot the trembling of her tiny hands, and the tension set stiff in her shoulders. Her eyes danced around the forest like a frightened animal, and he couldn't help but think that he would like to _catch_ that frightened little thing and play with her a while.

Not long after he had left, he'd run in the direction of her tracks, which led him to her camp. His mischievous side won out and he took her things and left her helpless. Maybe it would teach her to be so careless. He had to admit though, the underthings she had in her bags we're of the linen sort, and quiet revealing. A disturbingly strong feeling swept through him as he gently fingered the undergarments, and his pants suddenly became uncomfortably restricting. He stashed them away in a small pouch on his bag, where they rested now against his hip.

After leaving the camp, he circled back to the lake in hopes to catch a glimpse of the flustered elf, and enjoyed himself a show. She bustled around like the prey she was, and he watched patiently from his perch, the ever present hunter turned Rogue.

When she finally left, and by left, meaning _actually _left her camp, he leaped down from the tree top and surveyed the area. In the dark mud, just beside the lake, an amulet glistened in the sunlight. He recognized it as the amulet that rested just above the swell of the elfies plump breasts. With a quick snatch, he took the small trinket and shoved it in his pocket.

Now he had a reason to hunt her down. Now her had a reason to her.

Letharia awoke to the growling of her saber, the soft sounds not frightened, or scared, but tired. Shiva was tired of running, she could tell, but she had taken Letharia to her wanted destination. Nesingwary's Camp was just up ahead, and she could already see the flying machines getting ready for take off. She urged Shiva to go just a bit faster, and when she reached the camp she was greeted by Hemet Nesingwary himself.

"Oi, lassy. Been a wee bit of a long time since we last been seeing each other, hasn't it?" he shouted over the noise of the machines engines.

She slid off of Shiva's back, grateful for the respite of riding. She couldn't help but notice the new addition to Nesingwary's animals. It was a Proto Drake, but it didn't look as if it belonged. She ignored the shiver running up her spine and turned to the dwarf.

"Indeed. It's been too long. When is the next flight out?" She asked, nodding her heads towards the gnomish flying devices. Nesingwary rubbed his chin through his beard and chewed his lip.

"In about a few minutes, I'd say. You lookin' to escape the wilds there lassy?" he asked, baiting her with a challenge. She knew he was kidding, but the taunting hit home.

_Yes.._ She thought. _I'm running from the wilds... Or rather, what's in them.._ Her thoughts took her, unwillingly, back to the _very _tall Troll that had assaulted her that morning. Nesingwary saw the change in her mood and patted her hand affectionately.

"Everyone's in need of a break here and der. I supposed you about due for one as well, eh?" he said. He nudged her towards the flight master, but started to question her when she resisted.

"My things have been stolen. I don't have money to take a flight." she whispered, ashamed of having to admit her failure to an old friend. He chuckled at her expense, but didn't question her further on it.

"No shame in that I suppose. You can have Dirvon here for a while. He's been pretty useless the past few days. He's getting a bit old, but I think he's got one last flight in him.."

A shabby old Gryphon looked up from it's nap at the sound of it's name and snapped it's beak. She knew the Gryphon from it's youth, but hadn't seen it since. Nesingwary definitely had put poor old Dirvon to use when he got him. When the old beast walked up, she mounted him slowly, afraid of breaking him in some way. However, his body was still and strong beneath her, and sudden thoughts of crashing the Gryphon faded slowly.

She patted Shiva on the head before thanking Nesingwary and taking off towards Dalaran.


	3. Run

The flight from Sholazar to Crystalsong was a long one. A few hours on the back of a gryphon, crossing multiple territories and reaching both highs and lows, was not the ideal circumstance of fun. Letharia could often swear she heard the beat of wings behind her on her travel, but she couldn't be sure as to whether it was back draft from Dirvon's powerful thrusts, or her own heart pulsing in her head. Every time she pivoted in her seat to check, however, Dirvon would falter in flight from the shift in weight. Eventually, Letharia tuned out the mysterious noise and settled for pushing Dirvon faster. _The quicker we get to Dalaran, the better.._.

When the tall, iridescent purple tree finally came into focus, Letharia and Dirvon both released a sigh of relief. With the giant floating city just in reach, the stress from earlier that day seemed to fall off in sheets. Her shoulders sagged and she allowed her eyes to close in content. The unmistakable sound reached her ears again, and this time it couldn't be mistaken. Her eyes shot open, scanning her surroundings. The sound grew closer, maybe enough so that she could reach out and touch the beast if she so pleased. I quick glance the to left revealed the source of the noise, now thunderous in her ears. A fellow alliance member rode on the back of a Hippogryph. He threw her a generous smile, tilting his weight just the slightest bit as to touch wing tips with Dirvon. She couldn't help but laugh, both in mirth and relief.

The beat of wings she must have heard had to have been coming from tourists, riding near the same flight path as her. Dirvon suddenly angled upwards, nearly throwing Letharia off his back, and she clutched the feathers on his neck for dear life. When he finally crested the side of the floating city he let himself drop, seemingly not bothered by the jarring landing. She wasted no time in hopping off, pushing his shoulder in a playful way. He nipped at her retreating hand with a grunt. She spent just a few more moments on the landing pad to watch the graceful descent of the Hippogryph before retreating to the doorway that lead into the city. Dirvon wandered off to one of the grassy knolls on either side of the landing area and set himself down for the day. Letharia didn't imagine he had much drive left in him, and her stomach dropped at the idea.

Letharia's first stop was the bank, and she hadn't ever been so happy to have that bag of jingling gold in the palm of her hand. She strapped the pouch to the belt loop on her skirt and headed to the auction house. She could feel a set of eyes on her as she walked, as the small hairs of the back of her neck stood at attention. Her eyes scanned her surroundings constantly, but any number of creatures could have been watching her. She made countless eye contact with both Horde and Alliance alike, each taking their fair share of ogling time. She couldn't exactly blame them, she was staring too, but none of the eyes that fell on her gave her that uneasy, _run for your life_ kind of feeling.

Reaching the auction house was a blessing in itself, it seemed. The crowd outside seemed more like a riot than anything. Everyone pushing and shoving, not caring who or what was in their way. Letharia, if she had been any smaller than she already was, would have likely been trampled. She could almost sympathize with the Gnomes that sat on the less crowded side walks, clutching their hearts and whispering strings of curses at the beasts who were ignorant of the small races. They act as if they barely escape the throng of people with their lives, and that was most likely the case. It wouldn't be the first time a gnome was carted away by a group of priests for near fatal injuries.

The auction house wasn't as crowded as the streets outside, but it was a lot more dense. Everyone crammed to the front to hear the auctioneer and shout their bids. An argument broke out in the corner, a heated conversation very likely to turn into a flurry of fists. Letharia avoided that side of the large room, and placed herself in front of a less busy auctioneer. The human woman sat on a crate with her back to most of the crowd, sorting bags and money tags for items.

"Excuse me, miss." Letharia said, raising her voice a bit louder than necessary. The poor girl nearly jumped out of her skin, and Letharia guessed she was new. Most auctioneers didn't even _hear _you unless you screamed.

"Yes ma'am. What can I do you for?" She placed the bags back where they were, price tags in place and ready to go.

"I'd like to buy some bags. Mine were torn to shreds when I was away from camp. I'd like something a bit more heavy duty, but not too heavy, you know?"

"Oh, yes, of course. We just got in a few Frostweave bags. They may seem a bit flimsy, but the cloth itself is highly resilient. They're a bit expensive, though." The auctioneer rummaged through a few stacks before procuring a few bags that shimmered blue in the light.

Letharia fingered the pouch fastened to her hip and chewed on her bottom lip. Having good bags wouldn't mean another Horde member wouldn't destroy them if they so pleased, but the tough material might dissuade them.

"Give me four. I'll handle the cost." The auctioneer nodded once before exchanging the bags for the gold. Letharia's coin pouch was nearly empty by the time she left, but she felt solid in her decision. She made one last trip to the bank to drop off two of the bags for safe keeping, and made her way to _A Hero's Welcome_, a local Inn where weary travelers bunk down for the night. The name seemed like a sad cliche, since most of the occupants at that time sat at the bars, drinking away their sorrows. The place smelled like sickly sweet syrup and day old sweat. The smell was almost sickening. Letharia paid for her room for the night as quickly as she could, ignoring the lustful, drunken looks she got from many an elf, and made her way upstairs.

The room was like many she had seen, and often visited. It was small, with only a single bed and a bedside table. A small mirror, about the size of your fist, and bowl of water with a washrag by it. The candle that was placed on the dresser flickered, seemingly putting everything it had into staying lit. The flame appeared to struggle with the nonexistent breeze in the room. Letharia placed her bags by the bed and plopped down. She buried her face in the pillow that was supplied and took a deep breath, trying to exhale all the troubles of the day. Without a second thought as to even undressing, Letharia let herself fall into sleep, her soft breaths the only sound in the room except for the heartbeat of the troll at the foot of her bed.

* * *

Sul'thraze had watched her every move that day, from the moment she mounted for Dalaran, to the moment she laid herself down to bed. Not once, however, did he have the chance to separate her from the crowd like he wanted. He couldn't drag her, kicking and screaming, into a nearby alley, or throw her prone form into the underbelly of the city where he could do as he wished with her. No, he had to bide his time and wait. However, now that he had her, he just wanted to play with her.

Only but a few feet in front of him was the object of his obsession, laying soft and vulnerable. His fingers twitched in the darkness, wanting to caress the delicate planes of her skin and fist her foresty hair in his palm. Her whimpering and moaning broke the silence suddenly, the quiet sounds nearly mimicking the soft chime of bells. Sul'thraze tensed, ready to hide himself away in the shadows if she so much as twitched, but then he laughed at himself. This young woman, maybe only 20 in her years, could not best him in any way. She hadn't the experience and war experience he had under his belt.

_Hell, I could take ha, break ha, and kill ha here widout too much damage done..._

At his deep chuckle, the sleeping elf stirred. She rolled onto her back, revealing a bare stomach and a tantalizing amount of cleavage. Her hair fanned out like liquid Malachite and spilled over either side of the bed. Her creamy, blue tinted skin was flawless and nearly luminescent in the moonlight streaming in from the window.

Sul'thraze didn't know what it was about this woman, but he desperately wanted to have her. To make her his, and only _his._ The need inside of him was nearly overwhelming, and he couldn't stop himself from grabbing her ankle and pulling her to the end of the bed, and ultimately, to him. She started to struggle before she even woke up, but the few seconds of her confusion was enough to place himself between her knees and pin both her arms above her head on the mattress. One hand held firm to her wriggling wrists while the other clamped down on her mouth just as it began to open.

* * *

Letharia was jerked out of sleep so suddenly that her mind stalled, trying to comprehend what was happening. She felt the hands on her before she had time to register what they were, or who they belonged to, and she certainly wasn't ready to be pinned and silenced before she even had the chance to curse. However, after snapping out of her daze, she quickly understood who the hands belonged to, as she remembered the firm, demanding grip he had on her. The smell of the troll assaulted her senses, and she was horrified to realize that it wasn't an all around bad scent.

She could only stare, dumbfounded at the face of her assailant. His red Mohawk was eerily illuminated in the moonlight, and his face was cloaked in shadow. The only thing really visible was his eyes, and they never left her. For a moment, surprise was to be found in them, as if he had done something he wasn't fully aware of doing, but it was quickly replaced with arrogance. She could almost see the smirk in his eyes as they began to travel her body. It was at that time that she began to squirm. Not because of the obvious fact that he was mentally undressing her, which he could do physically if he wished, but because of the _feeling_ his eyes on her gave her.

It was the same feeling as before, in town. The little hairs on the back of her neck rose to attention, a shiver racked her spine, and her feet went cold. It was the feeling that had her mind screaming one word at her, over and over again.

_Run._


	4. Games to Play

Letharia's body seemed to buzz with the adrenaline pumping hurriedly through her veins. Her arms trembled and her toes curled, seemingly unable to remain still.

_Get free! Get free!_ Her mind screamed. She assessed his posture above her with a quick, critical eye, looking for some kind of leverage against him. His arms, so thick with barely restrained muscles, held her prone body to the bed. His hands effectively silencing her, and trapping her at the same time. She started to struggle for breath, as his large hands easily covered her mouth and nose. He moved his hands once she started to struggle, but only enough to uncover her nose.

She sucked in a violent gasp of breath through her nostrils, nearly choking on the thick, heady scent of _male _that permeated the air. His scent was that of jungle trees, both wild and alluring, and _earth_.

Sul'thraze tensed when her deep intake of breath caused her pert, responsive breast to rub against the underneath of his muscled forearm. The flesh, as far as he could tell, was firm and malleable. A deep groan crawled its way up his throat from the very depths of his stomach. The sound alone silenced the whimpering of the young elf beneath him, and stilled her shaking limbs.

Letharia was old enough to know what those kind of sounds meant, and her heart beat to a sporadic rhythm. The tension in the air was thick and nearly pliable, thick with _need, fear,_ and _excitement._ Letharia knew there wasn't much she could do against him, and she wasn't sure of her ability to shift any longer. Her body still ached from the instant phase changes from earlier. The risk of tearing herself in half was nearly too high, and she wasn't sure she would be able to do it fully at this moment in time. So, she settled for the next best thing.

She opened her small mouth beneath the trolls massive hands and bit down as hard as she could, effectively drawing blood when her sharp, pointed canines pierced the flesh of his palm. She expected him to pull away in surprise, maybe cry out in pain, or even slap her. However, he did nothing that she expected of him. Instead, he forced his hand harder over her mouth, nearly drowning her in his blood, and threw his head back with a blood curdling growl. The sound was pure male, pure _lust._ Pure troll.

He pulled his hand away suddenly, causing blood to splatter on the pillows. Letharia coughed up the blood that had been making it's way down her throat, which caused it the leak from her blue lips and drip down the soft flesh of her neck. She could vaguely see the Rogue's eye blaze red through her coughing fits, and her heart beat at such a speed that she thought it might have already stopped. In a shift of weight and a flurry of movement, Sul'thraze was leaning menacingly over the small elf's body. His head, side by side with hers, and his lips only a breath's width away from her pointed ear.

He waited patiently until her violent coughing subsided enough for her to hear him.

"Ya' don't know much 'bout Trolls, do ya girly?" He growled. It wasn't an aggressive sound. Instead, it was heated and laced with need. His hot breath washed over her ear and snaked it's way down her neck, causing a shiver to wrack her body. Her breasts brushed his armored chest at the violent shiver, and he bucked his hips provocatively at her. She gasped in surprise at the sudden contact from his pelvis and obviously excited manhood.

His tongue shot out and caressed the soft curve of her ear, all the way from base to pointed tip. She shook with the sensation of it, nearly choking herself again with the effort to restrain a moan.

"Stop. . . Please." She managed to gasp. Her eyes were pinched shut, her body shaking in earnest now. Each one of her spirit animals clawed at the surface of her restraint. Each one demanding to be let free. Her control was slipping with each contact her body made with his.

"Ya' didn't answer muh question. . ." He whispered, letting his breath cool the heated saliva still on her ear.

"I know enough. Are you satisfied?" she bit out, turning her head to make eye contact with him to show him her anger. If her hands weren't pinned above her, she would have gladly clawed that smirk off his plump lips.

"Not nearly as satisfied as I could be, mon. " he said, driving his point home with a quick thrust of his hips.

Letharia attempted to ignore his obvious advancements, which in turn only seemed to egg him on. Instead of leaving his hips to hover precariously over hers, he placed them firmly flush to her own. A growl of her own escaped her lips, causing the trolls chest to vibrate with his laughter.

"Der's muh girl. All claws and biting like a feral little druid." he commented, rocking his hips into hers. She had no way to shield herself, as he was already placed firmly between her knees. His pelvis was flush with hers, and she could feel the very evident arousal of this particular male pressed against the cloth of her skirt.

"I'll bite you again if you don't leave!" She snapped. Her body was writhing in pain and pleasure beneath him, and her anger was rising by the second.

_How is he doing this to me. . . ?_ she wondered. Her body was ice cold in fear, but blazing with newly discovered need. She wanted desperately to run, but also to stay right where she was, pinned under the powerful body of this obviously male troll.

"Ya' tink bitin' me is what's gonna make meh leave? If so, you be sadly mistaken, girl. Bite meh again, and I won't be able ta promise you'll leave dis room without ya' virtue intact." he rumbled, letting his lips trail down the length of her neck. She couldn't see his face any longer, but she could hear the promise behind his words. This situation of hers was very precarious, and needed to be handled delicately. She need _something_ to use against him. Something to distract him. . .

"Y-you mentioned," she started, stumbling over her words. He paused in his descent and took the moment to lean back and look at her. "that you wanted to _play_ with me. Well, I... I like games. Let's play a game." She whispered.

He straightened his back up and took this moment to really think about what she was offering. She could see the suspicion embedded in his gaze.

"What game ya' tinking about?" he asked, apprehension and curiosity laced in his voice.

"A game of chase." She offered. She hoped he would take the bait and rise to the challenge. Letharia was solid in the knowledge that she could outrun him if given the chance. Both of her travel forms would be too much for him to handle.

"What are da' wagers?" he asked suddenly. He smirked at the surprise in her eyes, pleased that he could throw her off her game, even a little.

"W-... Wagers?" she asked. She could see the mischief hidden in the depths of his eyes.

"What's a game o' chase if dere be no wagers? Dere's gotta be sumptin to play for." he stated in a matter of fact tone. She suddenly felt inferior.

_Of course he would ask for wagers!_ He was a _troll_, and trolls liked a challenge.

"Alright. . . If I win, and escape you, you leave me be." She stated smugly, happy with her terms.

He, however, was not happy.

"Nah. Dats not happenin'. If I win, you be doin' whateva I say fo a week. And if you be winnin, you get back sumtin you lost." He offered. The tone of his voice was frightening, because it sounded as if he was sure of her agreeance on the subject.

"No! That's not fair at all. A week is far too long. A day, maximum. And I stick by my terms. You leave me be if I win." She stated, trying to be firm in her decision.

"I don't tink you understand. I wasn't negotiatin' dis." He reached a hand into the pocket of his pants and fingered the trinket there before pulling out the delicate amulet by it's silver chain. The arms that he pinned to the bed started to thrash about as she realized just what he was holding.

_My Mother's amulet!_

The recognition in her gaze, and the violent anxiety the small amulet caused her, pushed Sul'thraze to restate his terms.

"Now. As I was sayin'. Jus' one week of followin' my commands if I win, or the return of your jewels if I be losin'. I won't be debatin' da terms withcha." The tone of his voice was final, and she could nothing but grit her teeth and nod.

"Dats a good girl. Now, I'm gonna be lettin' ya up, and we talk more 'bout dis game o' yours."

As he released her, thoughts swarmed Letharia's mind. One stood out in particular, however, and overpowered the others.

_This is no longer a game..._


	5. Play by the rules

Letharia pushed herself off the bed as soon as his body was clear of hers. She was nearly fuming with her anger, both at herself, and at that _troll._ She turned on him, ready to claw out his eyes, but as she whirled, she collided with a wall of muscle. He had gotten off the creaky bed without so much as a sound.

_Hell, he had gotten into my room with out so much as a sound..._

__That thought alone caused a ripple of fear to wash through her, and the alarm that flashed in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by the troll towering over her. He took a step closer to her, and in turn, she took a step back. Another step, and another back. Sul'thraze's chest rumbled with a sound akin to laughing, and Letharia flinched at the sudden sound. Suddenly, she was back up against the wall, her escape blocked by a wall of Troll and two muscled arms. He hunched down in front of her, placing his tusks on either side of her throat. His gaze leveled on her, and she didn't have a choice but to gaze back.

_Too close! Too close! _She was screaming at herself. His face was only inches away from hers. His breath was like the winds in the Barrens. Dry, hot, and impossible to escape. It washed over her faced and crawled down her neck, leaving a trail of goose flesh as it went.

"Now," the troll started. "as for da rules, they gonna be a bit specific."

"Rules? Why are there rules?" she whispered. He laughed at her again, and Letharia had a feeling this was going to be an ongoing thing. Him laughing at her.

"Every game has rules, girly. First rule be dat no transportation otha' dan your own be allowed. No strickin' deals wit da flight master, no portals bein' used, and no hearthstone. Dats a cheaters way outta tings."

The finality in his tone caused Letharia to nod before she even realized she was doing it. _No transportation? I can work with that._

"Next rule be simple. Da only person allowed to be tryin' to kill me on your behalf gotta be you. No assassins, no hits, and no cryin' to da authorities. Got it?"

Again, Letharia nodded.

"As for da last rule, I be givin' that one to you."

"To me?" she asked, the shock obvious on her face. He nodded in reply, his tusks slicing into the wall by her neck.

"Alright," she said confidently. "third rule is; if you capture me, there's a 24 hour waiting period before the game is over. You have to give me 24 hours to try and free myself before the game is called to a close." She crossed her arms awkwardly, trying to find a place for them between herself and the massive troll.

Sul'thraze threw his head back and bellowed out a laugh. He had to step back and sit on his heels to stop himself from falling with the violent shaking of his laugh. By the time his laughing turned to quiet giggles, Letharia had her arms crossed in honest anger and continued to glare at him from her place at the wall.

"Does this mean you won't honor my rule?" she asked him, anger seeping into every word she spoke. His eyes met hers for a moment before her broke out into another fit of giggles.

"No, no, no. I'll honor da rule, elfie." He chuckled.

"Then why are you laughing?" she asked, nearly stamping her foot in frustration.

" 'Cause you be more clever than I anticipated. Wasn't expectin' ya to make the game as difficult fo me as I was makin' it fo you." By this time, he had calmed himself enough to stand and tower over Letharia again.

"Alright then. When does this game start?" she asked. She could feel the cold seeping in through her open window, and her skirt which bared her thighs, did little to shield her from the cold.

"One last thing. I figa' I got an advantage, so I be givin' ya 60 seconds to run ahead o' me. Sound fair?" Letharia nodded. _Sounds more than fair. _

He reached to the ground and threw Letharia's bag at her. She fastened it across her shoulders and tightened the strap, nearly flattening the bag to her back.

The troll suddenly reached out his hand, making Letharia flinch back.

"The name be Sul'thraze. Thraze for short if ya' prefer it dat way." Letharia placed her hand in his and shook it.

"Letharia. Aria for short, if you prefer it that way." She said, mimicking his introduction. Aria was suddenly pulled to the chest of the troll, his mouth placed over her ear.

He whispered on single thing to her, and her heart nearly beat out of her chest.

_"Let the games begin."_

* * *

__Thraze watched watched as the little night elf vaulted her small body through the open window. A small chuckle escaped him. _Anyone else woulda had reservations about jumping out a second story window. But not her._

Her landing made minimal sound, and he watched her from the window, silently counting in his head. By the time she reached the water well and vaulted herself down into the Underbelly of the city, he was preparing himself to jump out of the window.

_... 48... 49... 50..._

He braced himself against the window sill, ready to thrust himself out and into the air. He placed his foot on the sill, _...58...59...60..._, and pulled himself through the window while pushing off with his legs. He vaulted through the air like a projectile and landed silently, only meters from the water well that lead to the underbelly. He began running, rummaging through his pockets at the same time.

_If she's goin' where I know she be goin', I'm gonna need some help._

__He pulled the Noggenfogger elixirs out of his bag and gripped them firmly in his large hand. One quick, effortless jump, and he was falling down the Well. He could smell the Underbelly before he landed, and her foresty scent still lingered faintly on the air. As soon as his feet touched solid ground, he took off at a dead run. A few quick turns and a tromp through water lead him to the drain pipe that drained water from the underbelly of the city. As he entered the pipe, he lifted his nose and scented the air.

Her smell was there, and it was stronger than the last time. Fresh water was splashed on the walls on the pipe, as if someone had ran through mere minutes before him. He knew he wouldn't be able to catch her at this point, but he sprinted down the pipe, tearing the cork off one of the vials as he ran. A light at the end of the tunnel was blocked by a lithe figure for only seconds before the figure dove from the pipe. The last few bounds, Thraze downed an elixir. He dove from the pipe, into open air. Nothing below for him hundreds of feet. The free fall didn't last for long. The elixir kicked in and he started to glide on the wind. Below him, he could see his little elf falling through the air.

_Shift!_ he roared. His bellow was carried away by the wind. His anxiety spiked as she neared the ground, but right before she impacted, she shifted. Wings sprouted in the blink of an eye and she caught herself on the updraft. She fluttered to the ground for a second before taking of again. She looked to be struggling. Her wing beats were erratic and strained.

Thraze pulled a small whistle from his pocket and blew through it. The gurgled sound that escaped was unlike anything he had ever heard. However, it did the trick.

His Protodrake jumped from the edge of Dalaran, swooping down to catch him mid-fall. Thraze's legs settled themselves on either side of the leather saddle and he clipped the leather safety straps to his belt. A hearty pat to the side of Dur'ock's neck elicited a throaty growl of pleasure from the beast. With a small tilt of weight and a pull on the reigns, Thraze was in pursuit of the small elf again.

_Run. Run if you can._


End file.
